


Sandra

by Serai



Series: High Contrast [19]
Category: The Faculty (1998)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, F/M, Het, Instruction, Kissing, M/M, Slash, Smiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4553445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serai/pseuds/Serai





	Sandra

.  
“Are you sure you want me to do that, sweetheart?” 

She certainly hadn’t expected it. He’d never asked her for anything like this before. They’d played around some last year, when he'd run for a while with some high-maintenance princess with a lot of demands. “I want to be sure I know what I’m doing,” he’d said with his wicked grin, but he’d shown no interest in trying the receiving end. That hadn’t surprised her, nor would it surprise anyone who knew him.

So why now? He _had_ seemed distracted lately, downright feverish at times, and now he looked away from her for a long moment. His eyes grew bright, and he swallowed, and suddenly the penny dropped. _Oh,_ she thought, and then on the heels of that came a plaintive hope that he wouldn’t get hurt. After a moment he turned back to her and it was there in the glint along his eyelashes and the roughness in his voice.

“I have to know what it feels like,” Zeke replied. There was such a war going on in his eyes. He was scared and hot at the same time, and somewhere inside he was in pain, but he was also curious, and horny, and that glint held fascination too, and the combination of them all fit him so perfectly that she just kissed his nose and smiled.

“Then we’ll have to make sure it’s as fine,” and here she kissed his ear, “and as hot,” here his neck, “as we can make it.” She ran her fingers down his back to the shapely curves of his ass, and trailing them between his cheeks, she kissed his lips. His breath sped up, and when she pressed in with her fingertips, he cried out into her mouth. She stroked his tongue with hers and gently drew her hand away.

“Don’t worry, baby,” she said, pressing her forehead against his. She could hear his effort at control, and knew this would take finesse… and time. “I’ll take good care of you.” She rolled him gently onto his stomach and kissed his ear.

“Relax…”

.

.

It was Zeke’s diligence more than anything else that made him her favorite client. From the beginning, he’d wanted to _learn_ – the first thing he’d asked was “show me how to make you happy,” and he’d said it with such tender earnestness that she’d wished she could be sixteen again and in love with this sweet, lonely boy. So she’d smiled and taken his hand, and determined from the beginning that his journey would be an adventure, one that would make him, as far as she was able, into a good man.

.

.

One night in the middle of December as she approached his front door, she glanced in through the dining room window and was stopped in her tracks. Zeke stood inside at the foot of the stairs, in a clinch with someone she took for a split second to be a girl, and then saw was a boy, pale and dark-haired. _So this is the one,_ she thought, stepping back into the shadows to observe them together for a moment. They were kissing at full-bore intensity, tongues deep in each other’s mouths, and the rosy flush on the boy’s neck coupled with the dark color of Zeke’s lips told her they’d been at each other for a while now. 

God, he was so _ardent_. The boy broke the kiss and smiled, gently trying to disentangle himself. She couldn’t hear what he said, but it was clearly _it’s late_ and _I have to go_. Zeke grinned a happy, hungry grin she hadn’t seen in a long time, and pressed against him, then bent to whisper in his ear. The boy’s wordless reaction was loud enough that she heard it faintly through the glass. His slack lips moved into a smile then, and when he opened his eyes she could see the shock of icy blue from where she stood. He laughed, and Zeke kissed him again, his hand running down to the boy’s hips, pulling him in. They vied back and forth a few times, Zeke hungry for another touch all the while – he actually raised a pale hand to his lips and kissed it, taking the fingers into his mouth one by one. _Good god, that child is smitten_ , she thought in her mama’s voice. 

But it was the smile on the boy’s face, that secret smile, that she remembered months later, when she held Zeke close as he lay on top of her, his body racked with painful, silent sobs. _Someone was bound to break your heart eventually,_ she thought sadly. _I only wish I could have protected you._ That’s when she remembered the look she glimpsed on the boy’s face, whose name she’d later learned was Casey. Delight, and hunger of his own, but also possessiveness. Ownership, even. And something else, too, something he himself might only have been realizing for the first time - _power_. 

.

.

Now all Zeke’s defenses are crumbling – his cool attitude, his ironic detachment, his amused smile – and to her surprise, it hurts to see him so wounded. She even worries a little for him, but she knows he’s strong and inherently kind. Solitude and neglect long ago wore his sweetness away into a kind of benevolent indifference to the world, instead of bitterness or anger. That’s always been his saving grace in more ways than one, and if she loves him at all, she loves him for that. He’s no villain, but he’s no hero either, just a good man, and as she wipes his tear-stained face, it somehow makes her sad to think that Zeke Tyler isn't ever going to save the world.

.


End file.
